Enough Already!

I love the color green. I love the idea of green. It is the magnet and the compass that drew me from dust and drought Oklahoma up north to cool summers, evergreens, venerable mountains.

I admire red--lush, reckless, unapologetic. It laughs too loudly, throws its head back, orders another round that tips an evening from polite over to raucous.

I don’t like yellow. The color laid over too many barren ugly institutional rooms trying to force cheeriness down my throat. It makes me angry, rebel, fuck you! I’ll be happy my own way and in my own time. The brighter the yellow, the more affronted I am.

I am thrilled it is spring. Don’t misunderstand. But out of the subway each morning there are drifts, rafts, platoons of assaultive yellow daffodils. Sentry double rows of eye-stab forsythia. I know I must be a real New Yorker, because it is irritating me mightily, enough already!

After only one week, I am jonesing for the next phase of spring: a slut of red tulips, a royalty of purple irises, a tizzy of pink magnolias, a Wall-Street-at-lunchtime of pinstriped dogwood blossoms.